


Days of Advent, Chapter 2: Salvaging Efforts

by CorsairOriginal



Series: Days of Advent [7]
Category: Before Crisis: Final Fantasy VII, Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020), On The Way To A Smile: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Meteor, Shinra Company, Turks (Compilation of FFVII)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27098452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorsairOriginal/pseuds/CorsairOriginal
Summary: Reeve Tuesti hasn't gone to see if any of his home in Midgar's Sector 1 still stands, and needs time to think about his ever-growing responsibilities to Gaia and what's left of Shinra. He and his new chief of security, Veld Dragoon, make the trek to see if there is anything left to save in Reeve's Meteor-ravaged home.
Series: Days of Advent [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1903474
Comments: 12
Kudos: 6





	Days of Advent, Chapter 2: Salvaging Efforts

**Author's Note:**

> Contains Spoilers for FFVII: Before Crisis
> 
> ****For those who haven't read Through Another's Eyes, I would recommend at least reading Chapters 1,2, 13, and 14. While not completely necessary, it does help to understand where this story starts from.****

Veld Dragoon walked alongside his friend, pausing at the gate that led to a damaged home. Considering the condition of most of Sector 1, the houses in this neighborhood had been largely unscathed. Of course, this area formerly housed any number of Shinra upper management and executives. It was unsurprising how sturdy the larger homes were.

Reeve sighed deeply, adjusting his hold on the unfolded boxes and bag of supplies awkwardly carried. “…Looks like most of it made it.”

“Shall we check the inside?”

Nodding, Reeve gestured for Veld to go first. A green glow emanating from his left hand, Veld placed his hand on the gate’s heavy lock, and it gave way with a groan. The two walked down the stone path leading to the double doors, and Reeve despondently stared up at the three-story home. 

“The front door’s lock probably won’t give easily,” he pointed out. “It was digital.”

“This way.” Veld walked over debris scattered about the front and paused before a blown-out window. Taking off his black suit coat, he wrapped it around his left arm and pushed any remaining glass out of the window frame. “There. Pass me the boxes.”

Reeve handed Veld the cardboard, his eyes thin as he considered Veld’s arm. “You know, we’ve known each other so long and I…I never noticed. You wouldn’t protect that arm if you don’t feel pain from it…Do you?”

Wearily, Veld half-smiled, passing the boxes through the window and then taking the bag Reeve held. “It’s a very unique replacement.”

“That was too personal,” Reeve mumbled self-consciously. “Sorry. I’ve just always been curious about it.”

“I know,” he said with a nod. “You’re not very good at hiding curiosity.” He pulled himself through the window, slipped back into his coat, and held out a hand for Reeve. “There are plenty of things you are, but not curiosity.”

“I like knowing how things work,” Reeve said, accepting Veld’s help through the window. Once inside, he straightened his coat and slacks. “…It’s so dark in here.”

They now stood in what remained of a living room. Very little of the furniture rested in any way that suggested it belonged there, scorch marks lined a far window opposite them, and the banisters of the staircase laid scattered across the tile. Daylight poured in from the second and third floors, where more than just windows had been ravaged by winds, and a layer of dust and filth covered every surface.

Idly walking forward and cautiously stepping around broken photo frames and knickknacks, Veld glanced around. He could vaguely recall what the home used to look like, and it was sobering to see it in this state. He raised his left hand, snapping his fingers once, and a soft glow hovered in the air in front of him. “What is it you’re planning to find?”

“First, the third floor,” Reeve said. 

“Let me go first, I’ll make sure the floor is stable.”

Awkwardly, Reeve glanced around the room. “…Please be careful.”

Veld chuckled. “Thank you for your concern.” The stairs could hold weight, and Veld surveyed the damage on the upper floors, his steps cautious. The merciless winds during Meteorfall had blown out the walls on one side, but the floors were still sturdy. Satisfied with his brief inspection, Veld returned to the stairs. “Come up.”

The two of them went to the third floor, and Reeve led Veld to what remained of the bedroom. Every bit of furniture, aside from the large, sturdy bed, was shoved opposite the window, and who knew where any of the curtains or sheets had gone?

“Put some of the boxes together for me?” Reeve asked. While Veld taped up boxes, Reeve forcibly dragged the closet door open. “Closet’s intact. I won’t have to borrow clothes during all this.”

“You didn’t like the T-shirt we found for you?” Veld chuckled with a grin.

“I didn’t fit.”

“No, no it certainly didn’t.”

“And…I don’t know. Wearing suits is a habit now.” Few by few, Reeve pulled out clothing and divided it into two piles. “I didn’t have to think about what I was wearing. I’ve been told I don’t have taste.” 

“You don’t.”

“Thank you, Veld, I’ve always appreciated your honesty.” 

Sensing a heaviness behind Reeve’s eyes, Veld cleared his throat gently. “Keeping up appearances will be important in the upcoming weeks.”

Sighing in frustration, Reeve tossed several pairs of shoes out of the closet. “I know. I know. Everything I do or say is important now.”

“I’m here for you,” Veld reminded him, draping clothes in boxes.

“Leave the right pile alone,” Reeve said. “Those I’m donating.”

“…I don’t think refugees need business attire…”

In aggravation, Reeve said sharply, “Well, they need  _ something _ and I don’t need this much. I don’t have space for any of it.”

“Reeve.”

Raising his head, Reeve paused in his sorting and rubbed his eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.”

“I know,” Veld assured him. “But you know, you can’t  _ be _ everything and  _ do _ everything.”

With a ragged sigh, Reeve sank to the floor. “I know. But everyone’s expecting me to.”

“I don’t think so,” Veld offered gently. “They are expecting a lot, but if you just remember you have plenty of people on your side, then you’ll handle it.”

“It’s hard…I’m not…I was never meant to lead anyone, Veld,” he admitted in a low voice. “I’m an engineer. I like puppets, I like machines, I like when things fit together and make sense. So often people don’t make sense. I’m not a natural born leader, not like Rufus.”

Veld smiled down at him, then knelt next to Reeve. “I’m going to tell you a secret.”

Reeve glanced at him, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

“There is no such thing as a born leader,” he said in a low voice. “It’s a skill just like anything else. Even if some people have a talent, it’s not some magical gift some have and others don’t. If you want it, you can do it. You just have to be ready to face missteps.”

“I’m…not sure I am,” Reeve said. 

“I’m behind you,” Veld said. “I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather see taking over Shinra. This world is _ tired _ of things as they were, Reeve. Anyone else who  _ wants _ your position would make Shinra be exactly the same.”

Nodding, Reeve gradually pulled himself up. “Things can’t go back. No matter what.”

“Whatever happens can’t be worse then what we had.” Veld followed Reeve’s lead and picked up the boxes containing the clothes he planned to keep. “I also must apologize. I’m afraid Rufus is the monster I made.”

Reeve paused, raising an eyebrow at him. “How do you mean? He was  _ always _ self-absorbed and entitled.”

“But he didn’t learn to face every problem with violence before.”

Reeve titled his head slightly in confusion. “I’m…Wait, what are you talking about? How are you responsible for that?”

“He was never on some secret project from his father,” Veld admitted grimly. “Shinra wanted some discipline put into him and had him put under house arrest. He was with us,” he said, tapping his chest. “With the Turks.”

Reeve gawked up at him. “For…For four  _ years?” _

“Four years,” Veld affirmed with a nod. “I’m afraid he didn’t learn anything he should have. We…tried. But he took only what he wanted. He trained, he had most of Shinra and Midgar’s networks around his pinkie, and he took ‘failure is not an option’ to mean ‘success at any cost’.”

Stunned, Reeve let out a deep breath. “Oh. You know, I always…wondered where on Gaia he managed to pick up whatever let him hold his own against  _ Cloud…” _

Turning his eyes down a moment, Veld huffed softly. “I hope you can forgive me for the damage I inadvertently caused. Maybe if I had still been with Shinra for the later half of his house arrest I would’ve seen what Rufus had become.”

“I blame no one for Rufus but Rufus,” Reeve assured him. “But I think I understand your point. Thank you.”

“Is clothes all you need now?”

“No,” Reeve said, stepping to the second floor. “There’s something selfish I’m here for. I trust most of this with crews, but there’s one thing I can’t.”

“Heaven forbid you do anything for yourself,” Veld said with a snicker. “Lead on.”

Inside a hollowed-out room that must have been a study, a pair of bookshelves still stood steadfastly against one wall. With the condition of the rest of the room, it was a fair assumption they weren’t actually bookshelves. As Veld suspected, Reeve reached under several shelves and a series of mechanical clicks rang out. Gently he pushed the two bookcases apart sideways, revealing a hidden closet. Veld wasn’t sure how to react to the contents, his eyebrows raising in stunned surprise as Reeve let out a deep sigh of relief. Marionettes hung from displays, among several rows of ventriloquist dummies with highly caricatured faces, and all manor of elaborate puppets.

“They all survived…I don’t believe it…” Reeve laughed, sounding much like a heavy weight had been lifted, and he shook his head gently. “I…Looks like the reinforcement was worth it.”

Veld awkwardly glanced at Reeve, not exactly sure how to respond to the collection. “Do…you need…?”

“No, no,” Reeve said, waving him back. “Just pass me the boxes. I…don’t think I can trust anyone else with this. No offense.”

“None taken.” Standing back, Veld stood back and slipped his hands in his pockets. Reeve delicately removed figures and dolls from stands, wrapping each in clothing and packing as though he were handling sacred artifacts. Veld knew that Reeve’s appreciation for puppetry had never been limited to just Cait Sith, but it was a bit off-putting to see such a professional and reserved man fawning over them.

Not turning from his work, Reeve shortly said, “Ask.”

Veld chuckled. “Fine, I’m not being subtle. What is all of this?”

“I never had much to spend a fortune on,” Reeve said as he picked up a set of paper figures on sticks encased in glass. “So, I indulged myself in the one hobby I have. Look. These are from the tribes around the Lodges. They called them ‘shadow dancers.’ The marionette here,” he continued, picking up a colorful skeleton from where it hung by its frame, “is from the Del Sol region. In the more remote villages they still celebrate Stream Calling by hanging effigies like this, hoping to call their loved ones from the Lifestream to move them.” 

As Reeve took down an aging dog puppet from a stand, Veld’s eyebrows jumped up in disbelief. He hadn’t seen that particular smiling pup in military fatigues since he was a boy. “That isn’t…?”

Reeve grinned. “Yes, it is. It’s an original Stamp. You’re old enough that you would’ve seen segments before they went fully animated, aren’t you?”

Nodding, Veld let out a soft chuckle. “May I…?”

“Be careful.”

“I can’t believe any of these even  _ exist  _ still…” Veld mused, smiling with nostalgia as he cradled the puppet in his hands—studying each minute crack and patch of worn felt. 

“The studio had an auction ten years ago. Please do not ask me how much that final bid was.”

“It might not have survived if it had been anywhere else,” Veld said, passing Stamp back and allowing Reeve to wrap and pack it. “I’m glad you decided to come back and take care of him.”

“Getting away from…” Reeve paused, then sighed. “Nevermind.”

“Reeve,” Veld said gently. “If you have to get away from the salvaging efforts for a while, you don’t have to concoct reasons to do it.”

“I know,” he said with a tired shrug. “But getting out here has given me a few minutes to just think anyway.”

“Do you need to bounce ideas out loud?”

“…Probably,” Reeve mumbled.

“Then do.”

Gazing off for a moment, Reeve inhaled deeply. “I was with my friends early this morning. They brought up the point that public trust in Shinra can’t be high.”

Veld shrugged. “Perhaps not. But many will see Shinra as a symbol of stability.”

“I don’t think it’s earned that. You deserted, so I know you don’t believe it either.”

Wearily smiling, Veld nodded. “I had my reasons. But you weren’t in charge before.”

“I don't know how much weight that really holds. And I…I keep coming back to ‘things can’t be the way they were.’ Really…Shinra as an entity shouldn’t exist,” he said in a hushed tone. “If I simply dole out Shinra’s manufacturing resources to the city states then…then there’s no guarantee they’ll wean themselves off mako on their own. Or we might end up with resource wars all over again…If I dole it out to private industries then we get dozens of Shinras instead of one. If I shut down all mako allotment entirely then I make us a target from both the city states  _ and _ private industries. But we have to get away from dependence on mako as soon as possible…”

“Yes,” Veld agreed with a nod. “All those things are true.”

“And I have to give Public Security something to  _ do _ …You can’t just discharge a military without it turning into packs of roving bandits instead.”

“I’m glad you apparently know that history has repeatedly shown that.”

“And…And Midgar can’t be rebuilt, all we can do is salvage what we can.”

“Everything here was structured around mako, I understand.”

“I’m already toying around with ideas for a new city,” Reeve said. “But…But I can’t let anything like the—slums happen again.”

Reeve had always had trouble referring to Midgar’s undercities as “the slums.” Veld admired that. “What do you have in mind?”

“A city that doesn’t need mako and doesn’t need Shinra can’t allow itself to fall into the same patterns that’ll create a  _ different _ Shinra.”

Intrigued by the path of Reeve’s mental wanderings, Veld grinned. “Really?”

“Shinra has…so…much money,” Reeve mumbled. “I do. The board…” A sudden thought came to him, and his brow knitted. “None of them had…”

“Keep going.”

“Huh?” Reeve’s face snapped to him, pausing in taping the boxes shut. “Oh, oh, right. I forgot where I was for a moment. Anyway…How much of a haven would a new city be if I let it be carved up and hoarded?”

“Not much of one,” Veld agreed idly, picking up several of the many sealed boxes. It was obviously going to take several trips to get the piles of boxes to their truck.

“Right!” Reeve said, picking up an armful. “There’s plenty of alternate powers that are largely self-sufficient and only require initial construction costs. If we can provide utilities without profit…then we start bringing that to the rest of Gaia. The city states just have to see it’s possible first, right?”

Veld considered this as he led Reeve back toward the stairs. “It’s a dangerous game you’ll be playing.”

“What do you mean?”

Veld stopped himself from elucidating. With how enticing Reeve’s ideas were, Veld had no right to potentially shoot them down immediately. His friend had a naive streak, but idealism was needed then. “Nothing.”

“Plants on roofs to help regulate temperature,” Reeve continued, clearly lost on a train of thought. “Pipes between walls instead of below ground to minimize earth-moving construction…You know, Rocket Town really laid the groundwork for innovative municipal design, and they got that whole city up in such a short amount of time.”

“It was built by rocket scientists.”

“Exactly!” Reeve said excitedly, then as they reached the broken first-floor window his face fell self-consciously. “I started rambling. I…I’m not really making sense, am I?”

“Of course you are,” Veld assured him, setting down boxes and then hopping through the window. “Here.”

Reeve passed boxes to him, his face skewing in concern. “But I…I don’t know, I need more than you with me on this.”

“I agree,” Veld said firmly, before taking Reeve’s hand to help him through. “With the kind of things you’re telling me, I think I know someone you need to talk to.”

As Reeve stepped out of the house, he brushed dust off his pants and shirt. “Who?” 

Veld grinned knowingly. “My daughter.”

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of worldbuilding going on with this chapter, and setting up where Shinra stands in this AU. No indication Rufus Shinra may be alive, and Reeve Tuesti the defacto corporate head of a company that rivals Amazon and makes no apologies for having outright political control over good chunks of Gaia. In my interpretation, Midgar was a city founded and run by Shinra, much as Walt Disney's vision for Epcot was once a purely corporate city. The various regions that the players went through in the original FFVII are all independent entities, but largely under Shinra sway for every need. 
> 
> More worldbuilding, Reeve's collection is based on various puppets from this world. The "shadow dancers" are based off of "Wajang" from Asia, Stream Calling is a Gaian version of the Day of the Dead, and the ventriloquist dummies were owned by a Gaian equivalent of the famous puppeteer Edgar John Bergen. While Stamp is included to reference Final Fantasy 7: Remake, this take on him is a nod to puppet-turned-animated cartoon "Beany and Cecil." 
> 
> I'm a puppet nerd. Now Reeve is a puppet nerd. Everybody can wish for him to be furry if you want, but in my head he just knows that world's version of "Follow That Bird" word for word.


End file.
